i ♥♥♥ tubbataha!

8 days to go 'til we head to tubbataha!!!

Dry Tales from Pinatubo

The Aeta boy held up a baby python as big as his arm. He was one of seven kids, with hair like wiry birds' nests, who rushed towards us as we stepped off the jeep. We were at Patal Pinto, the starting line on the route to the crater lake campsite of Mt. Pinatubo.

A girl wanted to show us the parrot that she gently cupped in her hands. Another boy had a mongoose-like rodent that darted from his wrist to his neck, occasionally straining forward to sniff the breeze surrounding the backpacked newcomers. Wildlife central it sure was.

Their parents, seeing our interest in the animals, tried to start a bidding. "Two hundred pesos," one said. A guy in our group visibly brightened. He knew the python's market price was by the thousands, and he had an empty aquarium at home where he used to keep a garter snake before it somehow got misplaced around the house.

The women tried dissuading Snake Boy. We were not about to support wildlife trade in any scale. Also, we didn't relish sharing the ride home with anything that could slither away. "What are you going to feed him?" was the challenge. "White mice and chicks, of course" was the response. More shrieks.

Aeta families poured out of the makeshift shed on the rock platform. Some were waiting for the random jeep bringing fresh produce so they could hitch a ride to the market. Some just wanted a peek at the newest batch of pallid city folk who would actually pay for the privilege of walking for five to eight hours through sandy, scorching terrain.

Aeta guide Popoy rounded us up and then set out on jaunty steps. For someone relaxed and smiling, he covered ground fast. We hurried after him. Our sandals sank an inch into the sand, evoking shoreline images. The sun had the day-at-the-beach quality, and well, we could have used some goggles to keep the sand grains from irritating our eyes. But thinking of bodies of water where it couldn't possibly be was needless taunting. Or so we said until we came across our first rivulet. It ran across the sand like splayed fingers. The sight of it was an initial surprise. To find the trail punctuated with spring water (ground spurts, trickles from a rock wall, tiny falls) was soothing to the eye, and a hint of the large crater lake waiting for us at the campsite. Several times, we had to wade through. Water-logged hiking boots would only weigh us down so we strapped on rubber sandals. The water was gurgling warm to our toes. When we stepped out, our feet were espasol with the sand coat. I could only imagine what trekking hereabouts must be like in torrential rain. The lahar would suck on the boot like a nursing baby.

We met another group of foreign tourists on their way back. They were in shorts and tank tops. In contrast, my group wore bandannas, shades, arm protectors, tights, and a smearing of sun block. The tourists carried light rucksacks. We were armed to the teeth. Why? Two words. Cooking showdown. Dinner in the mountains always is with this group. (Anyone else can make do with canned goods if the thought of lugging stoves and pots do not exactly bring a spring to your step.) We felt less sheepish when we found out the tourists employed porters who had, among their load, an inflatable raft with oars.
We stopped for lunch and then proceeded along even stranger terrain. Someone described it as an alien planet. The artist's palette is pared down to the black, white, and gray. A series of peaks, like wave crests, needled the air. Loose sand dribbled down the side of mountains collecting like half an hourglass below. Basketball-sized rocks were melded together in a way that, my friend imagines, would stir a garden landscaper's imagination. Some formations looked like the ruins of an amphitheater or a labyrinth. Boulders were strewn across the ground like a checker game played by giants. The canyons sat solid.

No one made small talk, and that's saying a lot for our group. This felt like sacred space and we were engaged in a kind of body prayer. We marched into our own private musings. About how, for example, movement even as basic as putting one foot after another opened the body to childlike joy. Hiking for long hours taught me to take pleasure in the moment-by-moment experience. I also couldn't help mulling over the enormous amount of energy that the earth released to change this part of her face. And she hasn't settled on a look yet. One companion had been here thrice and each time the route looked different. Wind and rain still shifted sand and stone. The ancients believed that "the earth bursts forth because it is trying to grow. It is trying to return to paradise."

Guide Popoy said some of his Aeta relatives were buried where we trudged. There used to be thriving barrios here. Now there was only wide expanse. Our guy with the third eye (there's always one in every hiking group) said souls still wandered across the landscape.

Just when we thought we were never going to stop hiking, we finally stood at the big drop overlooking the crater lake. Descending required tricky footwork. Rocks kept coming loose in our hands or dropping from under our feet. Nevertheless, we picked up our pace because the light was fading fast.
We reached the campsite barely minutes before it got dark. We pitched our tents, had a fiesta of a meal, admired the stars, and, for the first time in our group history, actually cut short our socials for sleep. We still can't get over that one.

I woke up the next day to the sound of someone swimming in the sulphuric lake. After a quick breakfast and not-so-quick photo shoot, we trekked back. We made it in five hours, with visions of ice-cold halo-halo dancing in our heads. Casualty check yielded a torn shoe, a pair of sandals with both soles ripped off, another pair of sandals sanded thin, and one pair of involuntary buckling knees. We also turned two shades darker, some getting their tan in stripes (blame straps and bandannas). One last lesson for us: Our jeep didn't show up. Luckily, another jeep docked in to deliver sacks of rice. We sent our prettiest to do the haggling. Done deal.

Just before we boarded, an Aeta handed a slow-wriggling sack to our companion. This was a boy's pet, my friend whispered. Feeling our eyes on him, the Aeta made a ceremony of calling his son and awarding him the two P100 bills. Even with the departing jeep's dust trail, bewilderment was evident on the boy's face as he stared at the paper in his hands for what seemed a long time.

i don't like scuba diving...

...when water is below 25C! brrrrrrr!

been months since my solemates and i dove together. and the inch thick dust our SCUBA equipment has gathered can tell you how much we all wanted to breathe dry compressed air soon.

thus the day-trip dive Z & L planned became a reminiscent of our bellarocca escapade (deserves a separate posting), when all 5 of us - wandersoles plus G are present. the world was still asleep but there we were, 6 girls, giddily chants for the awesome dives ahead!

830ish we were already parking at Planet Dive. oh Planet Dive! i luv how the words roll on my tongue. i miss the resort big time, especially after diving 5 weekends without fail last August-September (till i flew to US). glad to have also all my girlfriends agree to join me in PD, my turf! :-)

10ish off we're off to Sombrero island. we requested our DM to dive Batok, which he easily said yes to. dive plan was to dive Batok but to continue hovering till we reach Beatrice (one of my favorite dive spots). volunteered to do the first jump, and oh boy!!! sun was up, but water was rather cold!!! but then again we were warned during the brief, and we thought we're here to brave the cold waters of Anilao!

true enough, halfway through of the dive, i'm getting uncomfortable already. i thought the water is getting even colder. my dive computer registered 24C. brrrrr. plus there was a moderately strong current too. it could have been a different story if there was a good visibility so i can enjoy the sea life. we're close to Beatrice when our DM gave us the daisy chain signal already.

back on the boat, inspite it not being a 'macho' dive, head felt like being hammered. good thing, DM decided to go back to resort and have our lunch first before proceeding to our second dive.

lunch as always was great! buttered tulingan + pork bbq (skipped it though) + vegetable salad + sweetened banana slice = happy diver.

2ish we headed back to the waters re-energised. second spot was Mainit, so we're looking forward to seeing white-tip shark around 70ft below. descent was easier cuz there was no current initially. but after 10mins has lapsed i felt the hammering again on my head. boooo! even with gloves on top of my 3mm wet suit to insulate me, the 24C water can spoil what could have been a great dive. if not for the huge hawksbill sea turtle we saw and the numerous cute little nudis, it felt like forever underwater. so i made up my mind and signaled to my buddy, i'm going ahead. i'll just finish my safety stops and i'd surface to water.

on our way back to the resort, all i can think about was to lie my back on the deck and be warm under the sun. i knew i insisted to my solemates that i want to have at least 3 dives, but with water like that, i'd rather chill under the gorgeous sunset on the deck.

our dive fix may have been far from being great, but with crazy beautiful company, lovely sunset and good conversation, i can't think of a better way to kick-off wandersoles' 2010! i'm pretty sure it's gonna be a swell ride once more! :-)

so do i really dislike SCUBA diving now?? no way!!! only when it's effin cold like that! :-)

***

- photos courtesy of my solemates, indayguapa & wanderlass

- cross-posted to coffee mug

Wandersoles in Marinduque!

Tour of the Gluttons

Inspired by Travel Channel's Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations' Philippines edition, which we just watched again (with our guest /friend Ram), we decided to do our own Pampanga food tour. And we wasted no time.

As with most north bound trips, meet up is at our flat. We even had a movie night/sleep over to ensure that nobody will be late the next day. Just for the record, we watched (1) Drag me to Hell and (2) Temptation Island.

Technically, our first stop was at McDonalds in West Avenue. It was already 11 when we head out of the house and everyone was hungry. Plus some wanted to try their reintroduced twister fries. But in no time at all, we were cruising along SCTEX (the usual way). There was a bit of a déjà vu feel to this, with banggigay's Gabriel, indayguapa driving, and sctex @160kph. ;)

Aling Lucing's Sisig

The inevitable official first stop of our food trip: Aling Lucing's carinderia in Angeles for the most famous sisig in the Philippines!! A chain of Aling Lucing's Sisig has opened all over, even in Manila, but we wanted to go to where it all began. And not just anywhere in Angeles, because there are already several branches in Angeles, but at the original carienderia!

SISIG, for your info, is a popular Filipino dish and pulutan (something you eat while drinking) and legend has it that it was invented by Aling Lucing when she decided it's too wasteful to throw away pig heads. She minced pork ears, face, skin, whatnot and cook them in oil, chilli, onion, vinegar, pepper corn, soy sauce, then serve in sizzling plate with calamansi (local lime). Yum! makes me crave for it again. Note that we had 3 orders of sisig on our table for 6 people. All you need is rice actually. The true test of good food is if you don't have an ambiance to go with it and it's still wicked. Look at the left end of above photo, how there was an ongoing renovation next door.

After stuffing ourselves full (fool), we decided to take a walk around the charming town. Time check: 2.30pm.

Holy Rosary Catholic Church

This beautiful Byzantine inspired church began its construction in 1877 and was finally completed in 1896. It was with the combined effort of people of Angeles, which at that time was a relatively new town, recently separated from San Fernando, Pampanga. The church did not change so much since it's completion in 1896 even after the pull out of Spanish and World War II.

The Aetas in Angeles

Record has it that the Aetas were not so welcome in Angeles long time ago. The locals even had religious processions in the belief that it will drive the Aetas away. The recent volcanic eruption of Mt Pinatubo has displaced them from their ancestral homes and now you find them begging for survival. But we found a group a few meters from the church selling fruits who seem assimilated to the Angeles society. The playful children had a fun time posing for us.

Everybody's Cafe

After being stuck at Nepo Mart due to sudden monsoon rain for about an hour, everybody got hungry again. And what more fitting restuarant than Everybody's Cafe: The Home of Authentic Kapampangan Food. Find below some of the (un)usual food they serve. They also serve food we consider not so unusual.

camaru-crispy cricket adobo

batute-stuffed froggie

After dinner, we decided it's too early to head home, so how about night cap? And where would be most logical to go? Quezon City? Of course not! We headed further north -- to Subic! We chilled at Pier1 with a few beers and kinilaw na tanigue. But first, we had to take picture of this. Me and Inday at least. :)

SUBIC BAY